I pulled up behind a white sedan. The traffic light was stale red. I was running a few minutes late, having tried, as I so often do, to sneak in one more task before my next appointment. So, of course, I was slightly miffed when the light turned green and the white sedan slowly and evenly accelerated off the line.
Left hand on the wheel, right hand hung on the shifter, I coolly checked my options in the side view and rear view mirrors. I could squeeze between two cars if I negotiated the speed and lane change just right. I went for it. I zipped past the little white sedan. In the rear view, I could now see the serene driver, two hands on the wheel, in no hurry at all.
I proceeded quickly down the road, my thoughts racing ahead as if to get me there faster. I had just two traffic lights between me and my destination. The first one went yellow on me, right at that awkward moment when it’s not clear whether stopping or going makes the most sense. I chose the latter. I stepped on the gas and punched through the light.
The second light caught me, fair and square. Solid red.
I sat. I checked my rear view, and whom should I see decelerating slowly and evenly to a complete stop just behind my car? The serene driver, two hands on the wheel, in no hurry at all.
The moral of the story is _____ .(Fill in the blank in the comment section).